To Live and Let Love
by CalKersten
Summary: Bartlet is faced with a PR crisis after he donates to his hometown church and the priest then comes out against gay marriage.


Calhoun Kersten

MCS 520

Dr. Paul Booth

_To Live and Let Love_

CJ Cregg hustled into the front office and was met with the glare of Mrs. Landingham, who was at the front desk. "Is he in?" She huffed the words as she tried to catch her breath. Mrs. Landingham said nothing, which CJ took as a sign to go in.

President Bartlet had just sat down behind his desk no sooner than CJ Cregg came bustling in. She was out of breath as she tried to find the words she needed to say. "Mr…" she huffed, "Mr. President…"

President Bartlet called out to the front office, "Mrs. Landingham!" She appeared in the doorway.

"Yes, Mr. President?" She said in her gruff, but endearing voice.

"Correct me if I'm wrong Mrs. Landingham, but aren't I supposed to have armed men protecting me from unexpected visitors like this one here?" Mrs. Landingham rolled her eyes. "Don't think I didn't see that Mrs. Landingham, now could you get CJ a glass of water? I don't want her to keel over right here in the Oval office."

CJ looked at President Bartlet and smiled. "Thank you Mr. President." A moment later, Mrs. Landingham returned with her glass of water. CJ smiled politely before gulping down the water. "Now, Mr. President, about what I had wanted to talk to you about." She hesitated.

"I know that voice CJ." Bartlet said cautiously. "And it rarely means good news!"

"Well, no sir, not as such…" CJ explained with slight trepidation. "You see, you remember that Bill we had conceded knowing that it would never make it that far in the House or the Senate?"

"Which one, CJ? I'm a busy man. I get briefed on dozens of bills a day." He said hurriedly.

"Well sir, I think you know the one." She told him.

"No CJ, I'm not sure I do. Please." He said smoothly as he gestured towards her with his hand. "Enlighten me."

"Do you remember the gun control legislation that Josh has been lobbying for?"

"Yes," he replied, growing bored with the seemingly pointless conversation, "I'm familiar."

"If you'll recall, sir, we needed a little wiggle room with the Republicans?" Her inflection went upward at the end of her question, with a bit of a squeak.

"Yes!" Bartlet raised his voice, his irritation growing visible now. "We gave them…" He stopped. His jaw went slack in disbelief. "No… You can't mean?" He couldn't even finish his thought.

"Yes sir, and I do mean."

"But how could a ban on same-sex marriage make it this far? I never thought it could." President Bartlet spoke almost breathlessly, still not quite believing the words that were coming out of his mouth.

"Well sir, you were wrong." With those words, the president was snapped back to reality. He glared at CJ.

"Excuse me, Claudia Jean?" He spoke each word deliberately and painfully slowly. CJ wished she hadn't drank that water so quickly as she gulped a dry lump of air down her throat. It was a rarity that the president called her by her full name, but when he did, she knew it meant trouble.

"Sorry sir. It felt like a band-aid." The president's eyes softened and he looked visibly confused. "You know, rip off the band-aid and get the pain over with as quickly as you can."

He sighed. "Well, yes CJ, this is bad news, but it hardly warrants a visit."

"I know, sir." She stopped and inhaled sharply. "That isn't all." President Bartlet couldn't believe his ears.

"That _isn't _all?" He questioned, incredulously. "What else could there possibly be?" As soon as the words parted his lips, Bartlet regretted them. He knew he didn't want the answer.

"Do you remember your last visit to the cabin?" She asked, knowing that he knew full well about his last trip back to his New Hampshire estate.

"Yes, several weekends ago for Emily's birthday." He responded, unsure of the direction this was headed.

"Yes, and you visited with the priest from your old church?" CJ asked, half hoping that he'd catch on to where she was headed and save her the trouble of having to spell it out for him. "And you made a donation?"

The president looked at CJ. "That's right, CJ. He said that the church needed some help with upkeep and I volunteered to write him a check right then and there. How did you know about that?"

"I didn't, sir." She stopped short, realizing she'd have to explain herself. "What I mean to say Mr. President is that I didn't until this morning when Danny Concannon asked me about it in my press meeting."

The president was by no means a dumb man, but he still hadn't quite caught up. "How does Danny know about that?"

"He wouldn't say, sir." CJ said quietly.

"Well, what does it matter anyway? That's not a story. 'President gives back to hometown church', who would want to read about that?"

"It became a story this morning." CJ struggled to find the words to explain what had happened as delicately as she could. "Father Cavanaugh, your priest from back home, came out against gay marriage in last weekend's sermon."

"As he has every right to, CJ. What does this have to do with me?" He said with more than slight irritation in his voice.

"The media's having a field day with this, sir. You gave money to an opponent of gay marriage. People are calling you 'bigoted Bartlett' on CNN!" CJ blurted out. She hadn't wanted to handle the subject so bluntly, but she had no other choice.

Bartlet felt himself getting angry. His face grew flush, but he remained silent. She knew that he wasn't going to speak. He seemed whenever he got frustrated, he would always yell over something trivial, but when he was really upset, he would grow quiet and fume, at a total loss for words.

"Sir?" CJ asked timidly. She approached his desk. "Sir?" She asked again, slightly more confident this time.

Without saying a word, the president looked over at CJ. She recognized that it wasn't just anger in his eyes. There was something more. It was almost a hint of sadness.

"Sir, I need to know what you want me to tell the press corps." Her confidence was back and she was prepared to take control of the situation.

"Oh for God's sake," he roared, "tell them whatever you want!"

CJ stopped. For a brief moment, the Oval office was silent. "You know sir, that's not a bad idea." Her voice trailed off at the end, as if she was still piecing together her thoughts.

"What are you going on about now, CJ?" President Bartlet said, still visibly shaken by people painting him as some sort of homophobic despot.

"Make it about God, sir." CJ reveled in the simplicity of the idea. "You're always getting slack from the religious right for not taking a strong enough stance when it comes to matters of the church."

"No." Bartlet stated plainly. "No, I won't do that."

"I'm sorry to ask sir, but... why not?" She seemed confused by his resistance. "It's simple enough, you explain that it was a misunderstanding, that you'd gone to that church as a kid and when presented with the opportunity to help, you wanted to do your part."

"No CJ, I won't do it." He said coldly. "This isn't about God."

"With all due respect sir, to the rest of the country, it is." CJ tried to explain to him. "It's a win-win, you have to give up nothing to make this whole thing go away."

"I don't care whether it goes away!" Bartlet shouted as he slammed his open palm on the desk. "Not like this!" He put his finger down forcibly with every word.

CJ was startled by this sudden fervor, this passion that had awoken in the president. She stood dumbfounded for a moment before she shook herself off. "Yes sir, whatever you say."

"Do you understand, CJ?" Do you understand why I won't give this to them? Why I won't bring God into this?" He thundered.

"I can't say I do, Mr. President." She said quietly, as she looked down at her shoes. She avoided eye contact as she awaited his explanation. CJ had never been one to be shy, but the president's exasperation had made her nervous.

"Because this isn't about God, CJ. It never was about God." He spoke softly, his rage having subsided in those few moments of stunned silence. He paused in between his sentences, drew in a deep breath before he began to speak again. "That's what this whole thing's about."

"I'm… I'm sorry sir, I don't quite understand." CJ sputtered as she spoke. She tilted her head to signal her confusion. Bartlet looked up from his wooden desk to see his press secretary looking at him for the first time, not as her boss, but as a fellow human being.

"These people, the ones that oppose same-sex marriage, what do they do it in the name of? They say they do it for the sake of family values. Well, from where I'm standing, these people are pulling apart families. These people don't stand for family values. They stand against them if anything. They say they do it in the name of God. What God? What God could they possibly believe in that would see fit to judge a man for who he loves? Or a woman? Did God not make man and woman in his image? If He judges them for the way He made them, what kind of God is that?" President Bartlet raged as he spoke. He could not believe in a God that would side with these people that were rallying around the idea of a same-sex marriage ban.

CJ had always known that President Bartlet had a complicated relationship with his religion, but she'd never seen him like this. "Sir, I understand, but there's nothing you can do about other people's interpretations"

"No, no, no," He hushed CJ. "That's not what I meant." He shook his head at her simple misunderstanding and chuckled to himself a dry laugh. "I don't expect you to be able to shape people's perceptions of some benevolent being in the clouds. I just…" He stopped short of completing his thought.

"You just what, sir?" CJ egged him on.

"I just can't see how people can justify these actions of such fervent hatred as being the will of the God that I've known, the one that I prayed to at the birth of my children for their well being and their health. How can people use Him as a means to deny people the same happiness He has shown me in my life?"

"I can't honestly say, sir. " She replied. She knew these questions were too big for her to answer and she'd never be able to answer them to the president's satisfaction. "Sir?" She asked after a few seconds pause. "What _would_ you like me to tell them?"

"Tell them…" He paused, deep in thought. "Tell them to go to hell." CJ guffawed at his audacity. When she was finally able to get her laughter under control, she looked at him again with inquisitive eyes.

"But seriously, sir?" She stopped suddenly, unsure of whether he had been kidding or not. "You know I can't tell them that."

"I don't know what to tell you CJ," He said, growing tired of running around in conversational circles. "I've told you how I feel on the topic, aren't you or Sam and Toby supposed to make me sound good?"

"Right," CJ said quickly. "Talk to Sam and Toby. I'll get on it." She rushed out of the room and down the hall to try and find Sam and Toby, leaving President Bartlet alone with his thoughts.

Mrs. Landingham appeared in the doorway. "Pardon my saying so, sir…"

Bartlet laughed at this formality. "It's never stopped you before, Mrs. Landingham." He looked up at his secretary and grinned.

"You're right, Mr. President. It hasn't, and it's not going to happen now." She said as she began to approach the desk. "Because I know you Jed Bartlet. You're not one to back away from a fight."

Bartlet looked at her and could feel that a scolding was coming on. He shrunk in his chair as she grew nearer. He felt as if he was a schoolboy again and he was about to receive a scolding from the headmaster.

"You know that what these people are doing is wrong. You have the power to stop it. You have the power to say 'this is not what I stand for!' Just thought you should know, sir. As the president, people look up to you for some sort of moral guidance and as the president, you have the power to shape minds. If you think what these people are doing, denying people the basic rights to live and love, you have a duty to say what you believe. Just thought you should know, sir."

Bartlet knew of his two options. He knew which one was the right path to take, even if it cost him re-election. He clasped his hands together and let out a weary sigh. Another day had begun in the White House and he was powerless to stop it.


End file.
